


are you the new person drawn toward me?

by bellamythology (onemanbellarmy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Minor Harper McIntyre/Zoe Monroe, Summer, literally just fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemanbellarmy/pseuds/bellamythology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from a Tumblr post: "I was looking through Flower Language meanings and I saw that grass can mean ‘homosexual love’ and now I’m crying myself in laughter imagining some guy dumping lawn clippings onto his crush’s porch screaming ‘I FUCCKIN LOVE U YOU GAY PIECE OF SHIT’."</p><p>(or: Bellamy knows why Miller and Monty like to throw grass at each other, even if the two of them have yet to figure it out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	are you the new person drawn toward me?

**Author's Note:**

> for [Asher](http://halfbloodblake.tumblr.com).
> 
> Based on [this post](http://sailorvegeta13.tumblr.com/post/144181670539). Title from Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass."

Abruptly disrupting the tranquility of their lazy summer Thursday, Monty Green bolted upright on the park lawn, hand flying to the neckline of his T-shirt. As he tugged to dislodge the grass bits that were pricking at his back, he shot a pointed look at Nathan Miller, who remained sprawled a few feet away. “Really, thanks, man.”

“Anytime.” Miller winked and went back to pelting the others with handfuls of uprooted grass and dirt. (He claimed to be an equal opportunist grass-thrower, but Monty could’ve sworn that over half of Miller’s projectiles flew in his direction.)

Bellamy batted away a clod before it could land on Clarke, who had her head in his lap as she drifted in and out of leisurely dreams. “Seriously?” he stage-whispered, trying not to wake her. (She’d been having a rough time of it lately with her mother, what with college apps coming up and all — that didn’t tend to lend itself to a good night’s sleep. They had most of the summer to lounge around; she could afford to sleep through an afternoon.)

 _Mother hen,_ Octavia mouthed at him from across their irregular dodecagon. Maturely, he stuck out his tongue at her. She replied in kind, of course.

“Dude!” Harper jumped to her feet, Monroe following immediately. “Throw another one at us. I dare you.”

Miller obliged.

“Oh, it is _on!_ ”

Before long, the others had joined in, chasing each other around, scrambling to rip up ammunition.

Clarke stirred awake at their shrieks of laughter and protest (“Raven, no — Jasper, don’t you dare — I _hate_ you, Gina!”), raising an eyebrow at Bellamy while making absolutely no move to disentangle from him.

He grinned and shrugged, picking bits of grass from her hair. “The kids are having fun.”

“That’s good,” she said, eyes already closing again. “Wake me up when we’re ready to head downtown for lunch.”

Bellamy nodded, and looked back up just in time to see Monty grab Miller and stuff grass down the back of his shirt. He shook his head, wondering how it was that everyone else could see it but them.

 

It wasn’t uncommon for Bellamy to look up from reshelving books to find Monty browsing the library shelves, but it had been a while since he had seen his friend look so shocked by whatever had caught his attention.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked, putting down the book in his hands to check on Monty.

“Yeah.” Monty looked and sounded dazed. “Just —” He blinked rapidly a few times, made brief eye contact with Bellamy, blushed. “So Harper wanted to get Monroe flowers for tonight — you know she and Miller have that Shakespeare in the Park thing — and she realized she didn’t know what kind to get, so I’m here trying to help her figure out how to send the right message, and I just —” Instead of explaining, Monty flailed a hand at the page, so Bellamy took a look at the page.

 _Grass,_ ran the listing. _Represents homosexual love._

He tried. He really did. The snort escaped without his permission anyway.

Monty looked hurt. “Yeah, it’s dumb. I know.”

“No, no, it’s not,” Bellamy hastened to reassure him. “It’s just — I’m pretty sure Miller didn’t know this when he started, or he wouldn’t be throwing grass at the rest of us all the time.”

That got a slow, surprised little smile. “You think so?”

“Yeah, Monty. I really do.”

 

Once the cast had taken their bow and dispersed to greet their fans and family, Miller somehow found himself separated from the bulk of the crowd. He really couldn’t complain, though, when he looked up and saw Monty approaching, a small tin in his hand.

“Here, this is for you,” Monty said, thrusting the container at him. And unless Miller was very much mistaken, he was blushing.

Miller took it, curious and amused at how flustered the other boy was. “Am I allowed to open it?” he teased, already prying at the top.

It was filled with grass clippings.

“What —”

But Monty was already gone.

 

“So he gives me this box of grass, and just takes off. What is that even supposed to mean?”

Bellamy smirked, never pausing in his inspection of the returned books’ labels. “We’re in a _library,_ Miller. What better place to learn something new?”

“Huh?”

Smirk widening, Bellamy dropped a heavy volume in front of his friend. “Take a look at that. Monty found it pretty interesting, last time he was here.”

Uncertain as to what he was supposed to be looking for, Miller flipped pages slowly until he came to —

“Oh.”

“Now he gets it.” Bellamy clapped him on the shoulder. “Go get your guy.”

 

If ever given the opportunity, Monty Green would have stated for the record that it was actually not at all romantic to be woken by someone tossing rocks at your window on a Monday morning. His bedroom was his sanctuary, where he retreated to recharge his introvert batteries — he wouldn’t hesitate to fight anyone who hurt his friends, but sometimes they got to be a little too much.

But when the source of the noise was a grinning Nathan Miller, carrying a backpack and mouthing _Come down here!_ — Well, that was something Monty never thought he’d see.

Hastily throwing on a jacket, Monty slipped outside. “What?” he asked, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. “And couldn’t it have waited another half hour?”

Miller shifted his weight from foot to foot, oddly (and endearingly) nervous. “Not really,” he said, holding out the bag to Monty.

Naturally Monty had to unzip it and look inside. “So what —”

The backpack was full of grass.

“How did you even get so much grass?” was the first thing out of Monty’s mouth, when he regained the power of speech.

Embarrassed, Miller rubbed at the back of his neck. “Let’s just say my dad was confused as to why I was suddenly volunteering to mow the lawn.”

“So did you —”

“Bellamy may have given me the idea.”

“Me too.” Monty grinned. “So, is this our big dramatic-background-music, movie-perfect kiss moment?”

As far as Miller was concerned, there was only one right way to answer that question.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr as [befreckledrebelking](http://befreckledrebelking.tumblr.com); come say hi!


End file.
